


Stronger Love

by BrokePerception



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-13
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-13 01:22:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2131713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokePerception/pseuds/BrokePerception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When not long after the battle Hermione finds herself in love yet unable to let go of the trauma she's been through, she remembers the Memory Charm that saved her parents when the war went on. As much as she wishes she could just 'forget', though, she doesn't cast it on herself, but 'deletes' the love she knew in a way that is far more painful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

As Hermione took the cup of tea from her former professor, she caught the twinkles in green which made her just fall in love with her all over again. Right here, in this ruined castle, Hermione had seen a different Minerva McGonagall –– the one that she had always thought lay beneath that strict exterior and had always been curious about and had always wanted to see, but, honestly, she never would have thought she would. Hermione Granger had always thought that only those who were close to the Headmistress and very privileged got to see that side of her. She never would have thought that she would look at her one day and see her smile without restrictions and see mirth glistening in those emerald eyes. She was very grateful that she could, though. She was very grateful that in this place it was possible for her to smile whereas it wasn’t at The Burrow, exactly.

 

Right after the battle, Harry and Hermione had, without words, sort of moved in with the Weasleys, Ron and Harry, as usual, taking Ron’s small bedroom, as Ginny and she shared the Weasleys’ only daughter’s. Whereas Harry had seemed fine with it, undoubtedly since it enabled him to be with his now-fiancée as much as possible that way, Hermione hadn’t quite felt ‘at home’ anymore, ever since the first night she had Apparated back there. It had felt very weird and foreign, since The Burrow had always had that homey feeling before, but she hadn’t been able to deny the change. Initially, she had described it to the aftermath of war, and she still did believe it played a big part, but not in the way that she had thought initially.

 

All of them had had a very hard time with coping with the losses of close friends, of family, and so had she. The weeks following the battle in which the non-survivors were buried had taken a big toll on everyone, and it had on her, as well. They said that burial was supposed to be the beginning of a life without the buried, sometimes, but Hermione had always thought that that psychoanalytic interpretation was just a bunch of bull shit, because as she sat at the table with the Weasleys, especially when Mrs. Weasley invited Order members over, she couldn’t look past Remus’ and Tonks’ and Fred’s empty places, even though there physically were no empty seats. Meals were rather painful, and just being there, hearing Mrs. Weasley burst into tears at anything that reminded her of the loss of her son and the general beaten-down atmosphere didn’t help things. It all felt so different as opposed to how it had before, with smiles and laughter at the table and the Weasley twins’ pranks and jokes. George alone didn’t pull any pranks. It didn’t feel like that sad atmosphere would change soon either, and Hermione understood that, but it wasn’t working for her –– not moving on was not helping her give the losses a place.

 

Retrieving her parents from Australia and then reversing the Memory Charms before telling them what had happened had not at all been a stroll in the park, either. In fact, it had been a great deal harder than she had expected to try to tell them of the ravage and trauma that she herself had been through, albeit un-detailed, when they had been safely tucked away in another corner of the world, shielded from it all when all that had gone on. Even if Hermione had felt comfortable answering the questions they continuously asked her when she was with them, she didn’t believe she could ever talk to them about it –– not really.

 

When at the beginning of June, about a month after the battle, Minerva McGonagall had been at the dinner table one night and had stated that she was going to try to slowly rebuild Hogwarts again, something had poised the Brain of the Golden Trio to ask if the Headmistress could use any help. She had felt the need to do something useful in order to help her move on, and rebuilding Hogwarts had seemed like a good idea to go about it. Ignoring Minerva’s initial response that she shouldn’t feel obliged to help and Ron’s that it was probably better to just stay home with him and with the rest of the family, Hermione had stated that she would be more than happy to help.

 

Despite the fact that Ron had still been grumpy about it and Mrs. Weasley had asked several times if she was sure she was up for it, as had Harry and Mr. Weasley, she had gone to Hogwarts the next morning to assess the damage with the Headmistress and try to decide how to best go about the rebuilding. Ever since that day, she had gone to help her every morning, the two Gryffindors working together, restoring all the tiny pieces of the fabled institution one by one, mending the damage to the castle, to themselves and to each other as they did.

 

To say that there had been nothing between them to begin with would be a lie, but nothing could or would have happened between the people they had both been prior to the war, whereas the people they were after the battle as they rebuilt Hogwarts as nothing less than equals had lead to strong developing feelings for both of them that couldn’t have developed before.

 

Over the course of the past few weeks, the two Gryffindor women had grown to each other both tentatively and securely. The comfort and understanding that was always woven between very few spoken words had turned into a place of peace and acceptance Hermione had needed a great deal. It was something that had grown slowly, yet effortlessly, founded upon therefore vague feelings, fostered by their new respective needs and wants, and something that neither of them felt they could miss anymore… something that, even after just a month of free growth, couldn’t be termed anything else than actual ‘love’.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

 

“Hermione…”

 

At last, mocha colored eyes opened, the color barely visible due to how large the brunette’s pupils were; fear had grasped her in her sleep again. The light was on. The sky that was visible through the half-open curtains was dark, so it must be the middle of the night… again. Bust rising and falling rapidly, eyes shot back and forth fast over the surroundings before focusing on the woman whose firm voice had at last pulled Hermione Granger from her nightmare. It wouldn’t be the first time that she woke that way in the past few weeks, drenched in sweat and barely able to catch her breath. Nothing pointed at it being the last time either. To say that it was taxing, was putting it mildly. Despite the fact that Minerva said that it was ‘all right’ over and over again, Hermione couldn’t believe it wasn’t on her as well.

 

She did not stay at Hogwarts for the night more often than on occasion. There wasn’t any pattern other than that she stayed when they had been reconstructing until very late if that meant that they could finish an entire part and consider that fully rebuilt. Whereas Harry and the rest of the Weasleys let her be and do what she thought was best for her now, Ron often moaned that she was at Hogwarts too often and mentioned at least daily how he really didn’t see how it could help her, how it was better than just spending time with the family, and if it wasn’t him and his, not her own either. Ron was absolutely terrible company when they saw each other after one of those nights that she had stayed at Hogwarts with Minerva. She was certain that he would flip if he knew she lay in bed with Minerva on those nights as well.

 

She gratefully took the glass of cold water from Minerva that she was offering, immediately gulping most of the liquid down. Her throat felt very sore; she must have screamed again. She did not look at Minerva. She had disrupted her sleep yet again. The nightmares, however, didn’t only disrupt her nights, but also her days. Very often, Hermione felt like her memories of the war kept her back by invisible chains, especially in certain situations.

 

For instance, she felt herself still jumping when Minerva touched her. The women hadn’t really shared more than light kisses and series of slightly rougher ones, and at night they did nothing else but hold each other while clothed. Minerva hadn’t tried to go any further than that, nor had she. She could see it in how dark and full of lust Minerva’s green eyes became that she wanted more, though, and so did she… but she couldn’t. Invisible chains held her back when the mere thought of kisses and embraces swam into her mind. She ached to feel Minerva’s hands on her skin, but the thought of it made Hermione panic a great deal, too. She felt like her mind, body and soul just couldn’t agree about whether or not she was truly ready to go further.

 

“It is all right.”

 

Hermione handed the glass back to Minerva and pushed her body up so she could sit in bed and lean against the bed frame. At last, she let her eyes fall upon Minerva, finding nothing else but understanding, worry and love there. Somehow, this was the worst. Things couldn’t go on the way they had any longer. She felt the guilt consume her more every day. It wasn’t fair to Minerva that she had to always deal with her on top of her own pains, own grievances, and despite the fact that she was in love with Minerva and Minerva with her and she didn’t believe she could really survive without what they had, she felt like the other witch couldn’t be better off having to deal with her that way than not. Didn’t true love mean letting go of the ones you love and giving them the chance to be happy with another if you weren’t their ‘one’? “I’m sorry I woke you, again,” Hermione apologized.

 

Minerva McGonagall sat in bed, too, and made a gesture for Hermione to lay down with her head into Minerva’s lap. After just a moment of hesitance from Hermione’s side, she lay down and let the older witch play with her still-sweaty hair. It soothed her a lot. Very often, she could fall back asleep like that, even.

 

“There’s no need to apologize… nor for that. You were scared and trapped within your nightmare,” Minerva added, pulling her arm back as Hermione reached for it when she saw the angry nail marks that she must have left when she fought Minerva off prior to waking up.

 

She felt a sinking feeling inside her stomach upon seeing what she had done to the person she loved the most. She didn’t say anything, for Minerva would only try to tell her it was fine, and she didn’t feel up for that when to her it was so damn obvious that Minerva was better off not having to deal with her the way she had been. So instead, she stared into the darkness as she lay awake and considered the situation, her options, when the gentle rise and fall of Minerva’s bust and soft breaths indicated the older Gryffindor had fallen asleep. Every thought, every path her mind followed, ended with the very same conclusion.

 

She had to do what was right for Minerva.

 

Tears streamed down her face as she gathered her courage and moved off of Minerva’s lap and she reached for her wand. Carefully, she leaned down to kiss her one last time before she spoke the spell that would set things right and give Minerva a chance at happiness… without her.

 

As she left the castle and her love, she wished she could ‘delete’ her memories, too. It would hurt so much less than this, but it was worth it if it meant Minerva’s happiness.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapt er 3

 

It was the very first time that she saw Minerva after she had left Hogwarts with the Headmistress’ memories of the love they had, briefly shared. To say that she had been nervous, from when Mrs. Weasley informed her Minerva had agreed to attend Harry’s birthday party and at least show up for the dinner, was an understatement. To say she felt a bit paranoid, watching the Headmistress from the corner of her eyes the entire time, would be… accurate. It was incredibly hard for her to be in the same room and act a certain way with her that she didn’t even remember, carrying the memories of so much love shared on her own, the pain… while the rest of the world, even Minerva herself now, was unaware.

 

Hermione was still madly in love with the older Gryffindor, and every time she saw a small smile upon her lips or her eyes shine in the light above, Hermione would remember seeing those things from so close by at Hogwarts… gently touching her cheek with her fingertips and touching her lips to her own… and now she couldn’t anymore, and it hurt so much she sincerely hoped Mrs. Weasley wouldn’t invite her over too often anymore. Dinner at the Weasleys was already bad enough without the presence of the woman she loved with all her heart –– the woman she had had and let go of.

 

She had given all that up to set Minerva free and to give her a real chance to be with someone who didn’t wake her up every night or accidentally attacked her in her sleep in the middle of a nightmare, who could share her love in a physical way without panicking before it even got that far. Minerva McGonagall only deserved to be with someone who wasn’t as damaged and as broken as she was. The war had broken her in so many ways, no matter how much Minerva had already pieced her together again.

 

Given Minerva’s behavior with her and the rest of the attendants, she really didn’t seem to remember anything at all about what they had ‘once’ had. Minerva McGonagall, like everyone, was entirely unaware of how the heartbreak inside threatened to swallow Hermione wholly. Her imaginings of a relationship had always included loving someone who both understood you and also saw through you, who didn’t need words. Ronald Weasley was unaware like everyone else, if not more.

 

“’Mione?”

 

Jumping a bit as Ron laid a hand upon her shoulder and handed her a new glass of wine, she tried to smile half-heartedly as she looked up at him and accepted the glass before looking back down and putting it to her lips and taking a big gulp. It was hard to believe that she had made the right choice if she didn’t consider her own shortcomings. It was very hard to believe that it had been the right thing to do to wipe Minerva’s memory from what they had had, return to the Weasleys and do what everyone expected of her and be with Ron when she felt the way she did, despite the fact that it was not about her happiness.

 

Everyone had always had the expectation that Ron and she would end up together, especially after Harry chose for Ginny… but she didn’t feel it at all. Ron was not a bad guy. Granted, he was hot-tempered and all of that, but he was not a bad guy, and in another time and space, maybe she could have felt for him what he felt for her –– what everyone expected her to feel for him. In this time and space, however, she could not find it in herself to feel anything for him past the border of friendship, and she was certain that that had a lot to do with how she felt, being with him in the relationship-like they had now.

 

She had returned from Hogwarts after wiping Minerva’s memory from what they had had and informed Ron and Harry and the Weasleys that Minerva had wanted to do the rest of the rebuilding on her own. Most of the rebuilding had been done already anyway. She had not gone back to Hogwarts the next morning or any morning after, and instead, she had caught up on the time she had lost with Ron and the others. It had been hard to deny the looks pf expectancy from all sides as they were together, Ginny’s curiosity, Ron’s suggestive behavior, and she had let her be carried away, in this stream of expectations to where they were at this point. It had just been easier. It had been so much easier to just do what everyone thought was best for her than find what that was herself, because she didn’t have the faintest idea anymore. Without thought, she would say that Minerva was the best for her, but she couldn’t possibly be the best for Minerva.

 

Watching how Minerva elegantly sipped from her wine glass as she eyed her over the rim of her own, she took her in. Everything the woman did was with elegance, and that was part of why she was so attracted to her. The woman could manage to make brushing teeth look elegant. Blinking rapidly to push back the tears as she saw a small smile creep across Minerva’s lips that she had so often seen directed at her at Hogwarts, Hermione felt her stomach sink.

 

As she eyed the room and the people in it, she felt the change that Minerva brought. When Minerva attended dinner, there was a positivism and strength, that wasn’t there usually. Minerva McGonagall brought a really beautiful change to the world, and she had brought a huge one to Hermione especially. With beauty, with elegance, she had really changed Hermione –– a change that she didn’t remember making, and for Minerva’s sake, Hermione hoped that it stayed that way, however much it hurt her. Minerva was… everything, and she deserved someone her league, which Hermione was far off, she felt.

 

* * *

 

 

 **Author's Note:** R.I.P. Robin Williams, who offered so much laughter in his career in so many ways. He made mv smile when no other comedian possibly could have.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapt er 4

 

Applause resounded. Hermione Granger looked up at the high turrets and towers of the fabled institution that was Hogwarts, rebuilt and returned to full glory. She thought that it was amazing to see how in such a relatively limited time span, all ravage had been restored, in time for it to re-open before the new school year.

 

September first, just in one week, the castle would fill with pupils again to begin or complete their magical education, in order to graduate from Hogwarts like she herself never had or would, despite the fact that she had said that she would go back after the battle for her seventh, and last, year. Things had changed all too much, though, and instead of returning to Hogwarts to be confronted with what she had done, with Minerva, she instead had applied for a job at the Ministry. She just… would not be able to bear seeing Minerva every day. How could she if she barely managed to deal now with the guilt and the questions and the memories?

 

Despite the fact that Hermione still believed Minerva would be much better off not being with her, she had regretted her choice immediately, and the regret only seemed to grow bigger and bigger every day, while the questions grew. She saw people slowly mending about her, taking their lives slowly in hand again and finding happiness, and she was stuck there, in something that she knew couldn’t make her as happy, having had what could have. Letting herself be overtaken by pain and heartache and mostly fear, she had not believed that she could ever get past what had happened during the war, even though Minerva had always made it so much better, and she hadn’t wanted to do that to her. The more time passed, though, and the more she saw people about her smile, she felt more certain that what she had with Ron was not ‘it’ and could not make the change. The more time passed, she felt like Minerva had had that power. If anyone at all could have entirely mended her, with time, it was Minerva, and by Merlin, did she wish that she had listened when Minerva told her it would get better. By Merlin did she wish she had not panicked and just given up but given her Minerva a chance. There was no way back now, though.

 

Her eyes remained on Minerva as the sun above finally broke through the clouds and cast its rays on the milky white skin of her cheeks, illuminating her natural beauty like the day when they first kissed, tentatively. Hermione had worn the same dress she was wearing that day, in fact.

 

Truthfully, she hadn’t wanted to wear it. She hadn’t wanted to go to the re-opening to begin with, not wanting to see Minerva and hurt again as she had with Harry’s birthday party –– at least Minerva had denied every single request of Mrs. Weasley’s to attend ever since as she had worked her ass off to finish the rebuilding project. Hermione had known that she couldn’t not go, though, and thus, she had showered that morning and done the effort to put on a little bit of makeup and stood before her closet to decide what to wear for a long time.

 

Thing was that she had lost quite a bit of weight over the past year and especially in the aftermath of the war, no matter how good Mrs. Weasley’s cooking was. Very few of the dresses she owned still fit her nicely, and she had not felt up for getting replacements, nor had she felt up for fixing the measurements magically. Household spells were not something that she excelled at at all, mostly because she often preferred to do things like that manually, and she had always rather sucked at sewing for starters, whether magically or not. Sure, she could have asked Mrs. Weasley to do it for her, but she would have commented on the weight loss. The soft blue summer dress with darker blue flowers went wide from the waist on and was meant to fit the way it did. Even though it was a bit big on her as well, it didn’t strike as much as it did with the others.

 

She had truly intended to just wear linen trousers and a nice top after long moments of doubt, but somehow, she had still decided to take the dress off of the hanger then put it on… wanting to feel a bit prettier than she was, wanting to, as crazy as it sounded, feel a bit of how she had felt the last time she had worn it, when Minerva had kissed her then. Instead of making her feel better, wearing the dress had made all of it worse from the second she put it on, and the fact that Ron had come in soon after and told her she looked very nice in it and that they had to go and that there was no time to change anymore if she wanted to and that she had been forced to leave in it, definitely hadn’t helped at all.

 

So now there she was in a dress that reminded her of what could have been, looking upon her dream woman, one she had let go of. She wished she could feel her arms again and feel safe, but she knew she never would again, and it hurt.

 

Feet further, as Minerva McGonagall pulled back from an embrace with the Minister of Magic, who had just congratulated her on her hard work, emeralds fell upon her former pupil, the sun upon bushy hair and the skin her flowery dress showed. As they did, the image connected with another one… a memory that was not supposed to be there anymore… a flashback of the girl in this dress in another time and space… a soft smile and a kiss, so soft and gentle. As soon as she took it in, it was gone again… but not entirely.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

She hadn’t been able to really place it. She hadn’t been able to place that flash of an image that had disappeared as soon as it had come, and most definitely not the nature of it. It was the nature of it that possibly upset her most, and the fact that she knew she was way too rational to consider herself one of those people who passed things off as nothing if they couldn’t place them, then and see them as an illusion. Somehow, she knew that it had not been an illusion. What it had been then, though, she had no idea.

 

Quite subtly, not divulging too much of who or what happened in her flash of an image, Minerva McGonagall had asked Albus’ portrait for advice on what could have happened, but he hadn’t been very helpful, which was mostly, she knew, because she hadn’t told him what she had seen. They had been the very best of friends, always, but she just couldn’t imagine telling him that kind of things. Although she hadn’t felt very comfortable divulging the details to basically anyone, she had told Poppy exactly what she had seen, when the Medi-Witch had continued to pry for that information. Friends since their Hogwarts years, if there was anyone that she knew would treat her with respect and as much understanding as could be mustered, it was Poppy Pomfrey.

 

Talking to Poppy had answered things and had left Minerva with even more questions on top of the ones she had already had, too. Poppy had mentioned that flashes of images just like the one Minerva had described could happen after a less-than-successful memory charm, like when only a part of an event was removed and the roots remained. Previous lives, Poppy had mentioned as well. Maybe Minerva and Hermione had been all but strangers in their previous lives. That idea, however, Minerva had dismissed at once. Minerva didn’t believe in any of that. Although it would have to mean that Hermione and she had shared at least a kiss in this life, Minerva thought that that had more merit somehow still. She hadn’t really been able to convince herself of either of the options at all, though.

 

It was incredibly weird for her to be there, at Ronald and Hermione’s party with those thoughts still swimming in her head. As she saw the newly engaged couple sitting together at the other end of the table, she couldn’t help but notice that somehow, Hermione did not at all seem as happy as Ronald did. The smiles she gave when he told a joke seemed forced, and the look on Hermione’s face was like a cringe when he stroked his hand over her shoulder. She wondered if she was mistaken and if she would have seen the same if she hadn’t had the flashback or whatever it was when Hogwarts got reopened. Surely, Hermione wouldn’t have accepted Ronald’s proposal the day prior if she wasn’t certain. She wouldn’t have allowed Ronald to contact their friends and acquaintances that morning to attend the party and to then announce the news to everyone at dinner. She had thought of not going to the party, but she thought it would have looked even more suspicious, for meetings at that time of year weren’t really custom and with Hogwarts entirely rebuilt, she had no real excuses.

 

Angelic laughter immediately brought her from her musings, and as she blinked her eyes to really look at what was in line of sight, green eyes fell upon the owner of that soft and warm laugh, although she had known who it was before her eyes confirmed it. The laughter had been genuine. Ginevra sitting in the chair beside her with an equally wide smile on her face made Minerva assume that maybe what had happened was some inside joke of sorts between both Gryffindors. As Minerva took in the shimmering mirth in mocha eyes, several things happened at once. At that moment she felt her stomach sink, at first because it was a confirmation that this intelligent woman was going to marry someone she didn’t want to marry, and then further as a plethora of images spilled through Minerva’s mind. Eyes fluttering shut at the great wave of memories whooshing by inside her head, she saw Hermione at Hogwarts, smiling at her like that, a great many times: sitting down on a table as they ate lunch while repairing Hogwarts’ Great Hall, sitting on a ruined couch when in the Ravenclaw Common Room, the dungeons, Gryffindor Tower… her own bed.

 

With an inaudible gasp, Minerva’s eyes shot open once again to look at the party, where nothing had changed at all and everything was still going as it had been. That flash had been a memory, and she was certain of it. Why could she not remember it, though? Why did she not remember anything about Hermione and her? She dismissed the idea of a less-than-successful memory charm. Why would Hermione have used any memory charm at all? What had happened?

 

She couldn’t stay there.

 

Her instinct was to go up to Hermione, but this was not the time or place, and she just needed to get herself together before she did that. Getting up, she resolved to tell both Ronald and Hermione that she was grateful for the invite but that she didn’t feel too well and was going to go. It wasn’t a lie. She felt sick to the stomach.

 

Memories.

 

Somewhere between May and now, Minerva had kissed Hermione Granger… and she had kissed back. To say that she had not at all been attracted to the young woman when she returned, would be a big lie, but… She couldn’t imagine that she would have done it, with Hermione having been one of her own Gryffindor pupils.

 

She felt like she was losing herself as she tried to fill in the many questions. She needed to get away from there right now. The longer she stayed, the more she felt like losing sanity.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

 

“Minerva, wait.”

 

When she heard her first name, Minerva McGonagall turned and looked into the face of the woman she wanted to get away from most right now. As she took in the mocha eyes full of concern and what she swore was regret, more and more memories began to fill Minerva’s mind. There were so many, and it was overwhelming to have them race through her at full force.

 

“You remember, don’t you?” Hermione whispered, and she was scared for the answer she knew would be positive. When Minerva had walked up to them and told her and Ron that she didn’t feel well and thus was going to go back to Hogwarts, she had noticed it in her eyes. There was something in emerald eyes that was reminding of the seconds just before Minerva had given a too talkative pupil detention, the anger, and of the first few days after Dumbledore had died, the sadness. She had recognized something of the time she had tried to wipe from the Headmistress’s memory, too, though. There had been something that reminded her of the love they had shared. She was going to have to admit what she had done. There was no other option anymore.

 

Initially, Minerva wanted to act as if she didn’t know what the younger woman was talking about at all, but she knew well enough, and her curiosity and shock and need to know overtook everything. “What happened? What did you do?” she asked very generally. The look in mocha eyes spoke of a regret that couldn’t mean anything else than that she had something to do with what she was remembering, and that she knew that Minerva had not been able to before as well.

 

Looking back to ensure that Ron or any of the others hadn’t followed her when she informed them that she had to ask Minerva something before she left, Hermione looked down and whispered calmly, “I made a very stupid decision, one that I will live with for the rest of my life now.”

 

“That doesn’t state what happened nor what you did in any detail.”

 

Looking up, figuring that that was the least she could do, tears sprung in her eyes, and as she knew she couldn’t hide everything any longer, she spoke, “What exactly do you remember?”

 

Minerva didn’t reply at first, uncertain if she could get the words over her lips and sound so damn foolish. Hermione would be getting married, and it would not be to her. Also, the mere thought of the images thundering through her head being memories was ridiculous, even though she knew they were. At last, when she realized that Hermione would wait for an answer as long as necessary, relying on her own feelings then, Minerva answered, “I’ve been getting several flashbacks of us together, at Hogwarts, in the kind of way that you are with Mister Weasley now.”

 

Tears began to leak down over her cheeks as Hermione closed her mocha eyes, the words Minerva had just spoken cutting through her and pounding in her head, only making the immense guilt she already felt worse. Upon opening her eyes, there was an obvious anger in Minerva’s eyes that hadn’t been there before. She must believe that Hermione was some kind of slut who hopped from one lover to the next. “I’m not what you believe I am,” she whispered. “I… I still love you so much. You were there when I needed you, and I would like to believe I was at least part of what you needed as well. We grew close very fast, but it never felt like it was too fast, and in your arms was the only place I felt safe from the nightmares. You made such a difference for me, and there was nothing that I could give you back. I was so rough after the battle, and even though you helped me so much, I couldn’t just get it from my mind entirely. I wanted it to be easier than it was. I wanted to move on too soon, without giving myself time to do so. I wanted to be able to be close to you without having to be afraid for anything, for the nightmares to go away at once… I know that that was stupid and impossible.”

 

“You still haven’t answered what you did.”

 

Sobbing now at the anger she heard in Minerva’s voice, she continued, “I was convinced that you would be better off without me. When I scratched you in my sleep, once again, I couldn’t see why you would be better off with me anymore. I wiped your memory and came back here and did what was expected of me. I did the opposite when we… and it wasn’t working. I thought you would be better not remembering it at all.”

 

“It wasn’t your choice. You took the choice from me when it concerned my own memories and made a decision that was not yours to make.”

 

“I know!” Hermione cried. I know that it wasn’t my place. I just wanted your happiness.”

 

“I’m not happy.”

 

“You weren’t supposed to remember it. You were supposed to move on and find happiness with someone else,” Hermione whispered. Oh, how she wished she had done the spell right. She didn’t know what had messed up.

 

“Like you did with Mister Weasley?”

 

“I’m not happy with him. I compare everything he does to you, and every single time, I blame myself for pushing myself so hard to move on that I made that decision and lost you in the process.”

 

“Why didn’t you talk to me, tell me what you felt before you decided to resort to a memory charm?”

 

“I did, but I wouldn’t believe you when you said that I had to give myself time. Now I’m marrying a man that I don’t love that way, having lost love of the woman I do and always shall.”

 

“I am afraid that you will never truly know whether that’s a fact now, Hermione.”


	7. Chapter 7

Epilogue

 

She knew that it was thoughtless, and risky. She felt it well in how her heart pounded inside her as she walked the way to Minerva McGonagall’s old office.

 

Minerva had wished her a good day and disappeared after telling her she would never know if they could have had a happy ending. That and the look in emerald eyes combined with the regret she felt, the missing, and on top of that the feeling of everything being fucked with Ron, had been what drove her to this. She had felt sick at the thought of what she was about to do, alone with her thoughts and doubts when Minerva left her there, and there had been only one way to go about it and that had been to be hard and admit to Ron what was going on and go to Minerva. So there she was after having told Ron that she was sorry but that she couldn’t get married to him, because she couldn’t love him the way he loved her. She had a feeling that he would have been already happy to get what he could, but that wasn’t what she wanted.

 

Of course, he had begun to yell in non-understanding and shock, especially after she told him that she had fallen in love with Minerva, instead. Even if they were never a couple again, or whatever what they had had had been, she thought he deserved to know for the pain she was causing. Whether Harry and Ginny understood it at all, she did not know, but at least both of them had been calmer and had calmed him down when she said she needed to go to Hogwarts, silently encouraging her decision to do so, and if not, at least accepting maybe.

 

She was certain that Minerva wouldn’t wish to have anything to do with her anymore after what she had done, and she understood that as well. However, she hadn’t had time to apologize for her mistake, and it was of importance to her that she at least tried to make Minerva see that she was genuinely, terribly sorry.

 

Knocking upon the door to the Gryffindor’s rooms left her with no response from within. She did not hear any sound as she listened intently. Knowing that she had already invaded Minerva’s privacy enough by taking the liberty of wiping their memories, she wasn’t very keen on stepping in and disrupting it even more, but then she heard a soft sound that compelled her to at least try the door, which she found unlocked. Convincing herself Minerva would have locked it if she had really not wanted to be disturbed, Hermione pushed the handle then stepped inside, finding Minerva at her desk. She gave no indication at all of having heard anyone step in, although Hermione knew she must have noticed.

 

“Minerva? I… I know you most likely don’t want to see me right now, but I wanted to tell you that I gave Ron his ring back. I told him I can’t get married to him. I also want you to know that I know what grave mistake I made, and that I’m sorry… incredibly so. I know that I ruined my chances with you, and I will live with that for the rest of my life. I will always love you and know you were the one. I hope that you can at least forgive me, in time.”

 

When no answer came, Hermione turned again to leave. She felt sick and broken as she did, but then, was surprised by the reappearance of Minerva before her nose. At first, she didn’t know how or what, then realized Minerva must have morphed into cat shape and run over and then morphed back to human form. Her eyes were swollen and red, and she had obviously been crying.

 

“I can… forgive you for your mistake. I don’t know what needs to happen now or how, but…”

 

She halted. Mere moments, they stood there and waited as emotions and memories swirled through both of them, until, words unnecessary, lips touched, crashed together, a feeling of home enveloping both women only to consume them entirely. They didn’t know what or why, but it wasn’t too late for them, and that they both knew, and that was of the most importance.


End file.
